


sealed with a kiss

by rachelweasley



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Real Madrid CF, a bit of captain kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelweasley/pseuds/rachelweasley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had done it again. They were Kings of Europe for the eleventh time, and this time he was the captain that had led them to this final; this sweet victory.<br/>And yet… And yet, it didn’t feel quite right. This wasn’t exactly how things were meant to go.</p><p>Or: Real Madrid wins the Champion's League for the eleventh time, but Sergio feels like something - or someone - is missing to make the victory even more special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sealed with a kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write this because, while watching the final and the celebrations, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Iker should have been there as well. It doesn't feel quite right without him, does it?  
> This wasn't supposed to get this long but I guess I got carried away! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!!

Every fibre of his being was on fire. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he jumped and ran across the pitch, celebrating their victory. There were tears in his eyes and a smile on his face that wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon, not even when his cheeks started aching. He felt like he could run around the stadium for hours, like the victory was fueling him and urging him to spend the extra energy he had that shouldn’t be there, not after 120 minutes of such a tough game.

Sergio made sure to congratulate Atlético’s players and applaud their fans. He knew how hard they had fought and he knew how much that loss hurt. He’d been there before. His team had lost important games before, games that could have meant so much, and he always blamed himself for letting their supporters down. In that moment he felt empathy for their rivals. But the happiness he felt for his own team overshadowed that.

When he looked at the stands and saw Madridistas singing, jumping, and smiling his heart swelled because they _did it_. They won the Champions League for the eleventh time. Only two years after the long awaited _décima_. He had had his doubts about this game. He knew how strong Atlético had been throughout the competition, knocking down strong teams that were favourites to reach the final. And they got there instead. But Sergio? Sergio wasn’t one to give up. Not him, not his teammates, and not the fans. And until the very last second they fought, and they fought hard.

In the end, the better team won.

He smiled as he did his classic matador celebration. Smiled as he received the winner’s medal. Smiled as he held the trophy in his hands, feeling the pleasant weight of the cup that was going home with them. Smiled as he lifted his arms and held the trophy with his teammates at his side. They had done it again. They were Kings of Europe for the eleventh time, and this time he was the captain that had led them to this final, this sweet victory.

And yet… And yet, it didn’t feel quite right. This wasn’t exactly how things were meant to go. He wasn’t supposed to be first captain just yet. He was meant to be side by side with the man who had led them for years. The symbol of Madridismo. The boy turned man from Navalacruz who would do _anything_ for the club of his life.

Iker.

Iker Casillas was supposed to lift that trophy. Iker, who had lifted the _décima_ and thanked Sergio for saving him in Lisbon. Iker, who had grabbed Sergio and kissed him because words simply could not express how thankful he had been for Sergio Ramos that night. Iker, who had let Sergio kiss the goddess at Cibeles because he knew that if not for him they wouldn’t have been there. Iker, who promised that they would do it again.

And that… that was the one thing that didn’t feel right. He knew it. And thousands of their supporters knew it. A piece of them was missing that night.

Each player would dedicate the victory to their families, their fans. But Sergio knew better. And that’s why he returned to the pitch, clutching the trophy in his hands and wearing the same shirt Iker had worn when they won the final in Lisbon. The goalkeeper’s green shirt adorned with the name I. Casillas on the back. Sergio wore it proudly, as he strutted past the photographers who were quick to snap shots of his shirt.

He could faintly hear chants of _Ramos! Ramos!_ just like he could also hear _Casillas! Casillas!_

He smiled, waving towards the stands. Smiled towards loyal fans who appreciated their former captain as much as Sergio did. He pointed his thumb towards the back of shirt — an unspoken gesture to show them they he hadn’t forgotten, just like they hadn’t either.

He passed the trophy to Cristiano. The Portuguese patted his neck and pointed somewhere behind Sergio. “Have you noticed?”

Sergio arched his eyebrows. “Noticed what?” Cristiano simply nodded towards the same direction and Sergio followed his gaze, his smile dropping and a shocked expression replacing it. He felt a squeeze on his shoulder as the Portuguese left his side, making his way to Pepe so the two could pose with the trophy.

Sergio was looking at Iker. _Iker._ But that couldn’t be, could it? He was meant to be with the national team, not in Milan. And suddenly Sergio was running, running towards the stands where Iker was smiling down at him. He motioned for the goalkeeper to come down, telling security that it was okay and to help him out. He could tell Iker was hesitant at first, but they both knew that Sergio was stubborn and wouldn’t rest until Iker was at Sergio’s side. Even if that meant that he had to go up the stands and drag him down himself.

Not long after, Iker was walking towards him.

Sergio threw his arms around him, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding until Iker’s arms wrapped around his waist. Sergio pulled back slightly to look at the older man’s eyes.

“You’re here,” he half stated, half asked. “You’re… I thought you were meant to be in Austria.”

“I was,” the goalkeeper said, removing his arms from around Sergio, the younger man almost whining at the loss of contact. “But since I wasn’t in the line up to play, I asked if I could be excused to come watch the final. They were surprisingly understanding.”

Sergio laughed. “Of course they were.” He paused. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Thought I’d surprise you.”

“You did.”

He winked. “Congratulations, Sergio.” He smiled widely. “I knew you would do it again.”

“That was a tough one,” he said, turning around and leading Iker towards the centre of the pitch. “I lost faith for a moment there. Had flashbacks to the last time we were down to penalties and lost. I don’t think I could have handled that again.”

Iker grimaced at the memory. “You did good, though. You all did. I’m proud of you for being brave and taking that penalty.” Sergio felt a hand on his back. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“I had to make sure you were present somehow. Seems only right, doesn’t it? This is your night as well.”

Iker was about to respond when they heard their names being called. The photographers were asking them to pose with the trophy, asking Iker to move closer so they could get good shots of him.

“I don’t know if I sho—”

“Don’t you dare,” Sergio warned, already walking towards them. “You have to do this. You were supposed to be here from the start.” The sentence was almost whispered but loud enough so that Iker could catch it.

They held the trophy between them, just like they had two years ago. They saw the flashes going off and the rustle of photographers trying to get the best shots, especially when they both leaned in and kissed the cup. Sergio beamed at Iker, as he wrapped an arm around the goalkeeper’s shoulder and they walked towards the rest of the squad. Most of them beaming with happiness at the sight of Iker.

Sergio couldn’t help but smile proudly as he heard the likes of Marcelo, Luka, and Pepe telling Iker that the trophy – and the victory – was as much his as it was theirs. He smiled even wider when Iker turned to the stands and waved, a grin on his face, as he heard the fans chanting his name almost like a prayer.

He may be playing for another team now, but for a brief moment they could all imagine that the captain was theirs again.

 

* * *

 

They arrived at _Plaza de Cibeles_ in the early hours of the morning. Sergio was astounded at the amount of people waiting for them, knowing that they had been there since the night before. But he couldn’t say he was surprised. He knew how much their supporters loved their club and their loyalty and passion were never ones to fail them. Not even the rain stopped them from waiting for over ten hours until the team finally arrived. The sight before his eyes was breathtaking. Thousands of Madridistas singing _como no te voy a querer?_ as the bus moved around the roundabout.

The players were as ecstatic as the fans, singing, dancing, and filming everything. Their fatigue was overshadowed by the love they felt from their fans and suddenly they had all the energy to enjoy the moment. They would have time to rest afterwards, but it wasn’t every day that they’d get to celebrate something as huge as this.

Sergio had managed to convince Iker to go with them. It had not been easy but before he knew it there were other players almost demanding that Iker did as asked. Iker knew that he would never hear the end of it if he didn’t, so he listened to them and the small part in his heart that was screaming at him to _go_. To experience Madridismo at Cibeles, an experience that never failed to take his breath away. He almost felt like he was part of the squad again, what with everyone treating him like he’d never left and had been present for the past few months.

To say he was shocked when Sergio asked _just one more thing_ from him was an understatement.

“You want me to what?”

“Please?” Sergio almost looked like he was begging, with his soft, brown eyes. “Iker, you’re our captain—”

“You’re the captain now, Sergio.”

“You’re _our captain_ ,” he repeated, standing his ground. “I want you to wrap the flag around the goddess and lift the trophy.”

“I can’t do that. It’s not for me to do that anymore.”

“Well, then, since you want to make clear that _I’m_ captain then I’m going to ask _you_ – just like a _captain_ would – to just fucking _do_ this.” He looked at the goalkeeper, almost daring him to refuse.

“Iker.” Zidane’s voice sounded, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Whether you want to lift the trophy or not is up to you. But I think that it would mean a lot to the fans if you were at least up there with Sergio. Let this at least be a proper goodbye that you’ll get from this club.”

Sergio winced at the last sentence, his lips forming a thin line, but he didn’t say anything. He only looked at Iker expectantly.

Iker nodded, sighing. He turned to Sergio. “Remember when we won _la décima_?”

“How could I not?”

“I made you a promise then. I told you that when we won the Champion’s League again, you would lift the trophy. You’ve done that. But I want you to keep the tradition and do everything that’s expected from you, the captain. I’ll go with you up there, but you’re doing the honours.”

And he spoke with _his captain’s voice_. The voice that Sergio had heard for years and knew better than to disobey. He knew this was the best he was going to get so he accepted the decision, and he gently grasped Iker’s arm as they walked up the stairs.

The crowd roared as they saw the two men coming up behind the goddess. Sergio could hear Iker’s name being screamed and he encouraged the crowd to keep going. He could see Iker’s soft expression as he gazed down at the thousands of fans chanting his name with so much passion. He smiled softly, waving his arms and placing his hand on the left side of his chest, showing just how much he appreciated them.

“Hold this for me while I do our lady the honours, will you?” Sergio asked, passing Iker the trophy.

He leaned down, wrapping the flag around the goddess, followed by the scarf. Carefully, he leaned down further, feeling Iker’s firm grasp on his hip so he wouldn’t fall, and placed a kiss on her face, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He chuckled to himself as he leaned back, winking towards the crowd. Iker passed him the trophy and he gave it a small kiss, his hand resting on the goddess. Waiting for the right moment, he slowly lifted the cup.

_(We are the champions, my friend)_

His heart jumped when he heard the crowd clapping and chanting. He could relive moments like this hundreds of times and he would never get tired. Sergio looked at Iker and pushed the trophy towards him. “Don’t let me down, Casillas.”

And, yet again, Iker knew better than to deny the defender anything. He held the trophy high as the crowd chanted his name. He savoured every moment because he knew this would be his last chance. He hoped – he _knew_ – the memory would be engraved in his mind for years to come.

Sergio and Iker locked eyes, beaming faces, as Iker kissed the cup.

 

* * *

 

The celebrations at the Bernabéu were equally as beautiful. From the new version of Real Madrid’s song to the players embarrassing, yet amusing and sweet, speeches. The love that could be felt in the stadium was overwhelming and Sergio felt like he could burst from happiness. Winning the Champions League twice in three years was amazing. Especially considering the twelve years they had waited until finally winning it for the tenth time. They had suffered for over a decade, so to win it again only two years later felt like a dream. And if it really was a dream then Sergio didn’t want to wake up.

He loved seeing the players with their families, especially the children, on the pitch. He didn’t have any children of his own but his niece, Daniela, felt very much like a daughter to him. He took pictures with her and the trophy and walked with her around the pitch. When she left his side to play with the other children, Sergio turned around to catch Iker walking towards him.

He grinned, arching an eyebrow. “Surprised to see that I didn’t have to physically drag you from back there.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to give me orders for the fifth time in less than 24 hours.”

Sergio lowered his voice. “You saying you don’t like when I give you orders?”

“Depends on the situation,” Iker replied, nonchalantly.

Sergio pursed his lips, his eyes lowering to the ground. There was something he couldn’t stop thinking about. Something he had wanted to do for a long time, years even. But they had always refrained from it, having agreed that it may bring very strong, possibly negative consequences to their careers. But lately Sergio felt like he’d had enough. He was tired of hiding, of not being able to be person he really was. He was happy but he’d be a lot happier if he didn’t have to pretend anymore.

“Sergio?”

He looked up; looked at warm, hazelnut eyes.  “How much would you hate me if I kissed you, right here, right now?”

“What? Sergio—”

“Just— hear me out, Iker. I have loved you since the moment I met you. I know that whenever I say that, you think I’m exaggerating and brush it off, but it’s true. That was eleven years ago, and it’s been six years since, by some miracle, you thought it was a good idea to put up with me as more than just a friend. I’m tired of pretending that that’s all we are. I want the world to know how much you mean to me, and how much I _need_ you, and how _proud_ I am to have you by my side. I wanted to do that in Lisbon but I didn’t out of respect for you. And I won’t do it now if you don’t want me to. But there’s nothing I want more, in this moment, than to kiss you. It seems like the best way to seal these two amazing nights. So, what will it be?”

“Talk about no pressure,” Iker whispered, but Sergio’s determined expression does not waver. “What if it affects you, Sergio? Do you realise how there are barely any openly gay or bisexual footballers out there? We can count the number with one hand.”

“I know. But if the world has a problem with this,” he laughed bitterly, “then the world can go fuck itself. I choose you over anything else. If the club or our supporters think of us any differently because we’re together, then that’s their own problem to solve. Not ours. I trust that people would know better than that by now.”

“You never fail to amaze me,” Iker whispered fondly, his hand resting on Sergio’s arm, thinking for a second. “You truly don’t. This is insane.” He looked at Sergio. “You going to kiss me now, Ramos?”

Sergio gasped, not expecting Iker to agree to it so easily. His hands rested on Iker’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze, reassuringly. Then he chuckled and pressed their lips together, not a single care in the world. His hands moved up, touching Iker’s neck as he felt strong hands holding onto his hips, pulling him closer. He nudged Iker’s lips with his tongue, urging the goalkeeper to open up to him – and he did, deepening their kiss and forgetting about the rest of the world for the moment. They stayed like that for a while, mapping each other’s mouths like they had done countless times before.

When they finally broke apart, they rested their foreheads against each other, eyes closed. It took them a minute until they could hear the sounds around them. When they opened their eyes, it was safe to say that they were shocked to see the fans applauding them, and their beaming teammates looking fondly at them, flashes going off all around. Sergio noticed how Marcelo gave them the thumbs up, mouthing _about time!_ He had known, of course. A couple of their teammates – the ones closest to them – knew and supported them fully, making sure the two knew that they would always have their back in case something were to go wrong. But as Sergio looked at his surroundings he could tell that – hopefully – it would not be necessary.

He looked back at Iker, the expression on the older man’s face one of bliss, looking as dazed as Sergio felt. “Maybe we should have done it sooner.”

Sergio laughed, feeling like he was in some sort of dream, and lightly slapped Iker’s shoulder before slamming their mouths together.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the front door closed, Sergio wasted no time in pressing Iker against the wall, firm hands holding the goalkeeper in place. He kissed along Iker’s jaw, lightly sucking at his neck and leaving barely there marks. Bodies pressed together, he felt Iker’s arms wrapping around his neck pulling him closer. He turned his face and kissed thin lips, tongue licking the bottom one. Iker shivered under his touch, opening his mouth and darting his tongue out, massaging it against Sergio’s.

The defender’s hands roamed down his body, settling behind strong things and lifting Iker up. With the older man’s legs wrapped around his waist he made his way to the bedroom.

“I remember when it was me carrying you,” Iker said in between kisses.

Sergio chuckled against his mouth. “You can still do it. You’re just lazy, old man.”

“Maybe I just like when you do it.”

Sergio groaned as he laid Iker on the bed, crawling on top of him, and taking his shirt off. He felt Iker’s gaze on him and arched an eyebrow as he tried to get rid of Iker’s own shirt. Once he managed to do that, he felt strong, warm hands on his skin.

“Look at you,” Iker whispered. “Your fucking body, Sergio.” The defender didn’t reply. Instead he watched as Iker’s hand moved along defined muscles as if seeing them for the first time. No matter how many times he sees Sergio naked, he always seems awestruck at the image before him. Sergio once joked about that, saying that it looked like Iker was looking at a piece of art. The goalkeeper shrugged, stating that it was not far from the truth. Sergio had been speechless. He had never been the most attractive guy, definitely not when he was younger, what with the long hair and skinny body. But as he got older, as he worked on his body and his features changed, he gained more confidence. And yet, he still melted before Iker when the older man showed him any type of appreciation. The fact that it came from _Iker_ was so much more meaningful than anyone else finding him attractive.

So he watched through half lidded eyes as Iker kissed his chest, one hand resting on his hip as the other traced his back. His own hand rested the back of Iker’s neck, urging him on, showing how much he wanted him. Iker maneuvered them, trying to get Sergio to lay on his back. The defender was quick to follow, quickly trying to get rid of his trousers. He noticed Iker’s grin as the older man clearly noted that Sergio wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Why waste my time with that?” Sergio offered.

“Eager, are we?” Iker joked.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks and you decided to surprise me yesterday. Been aching for you since then.”

Iker’s eyes darkened at those words, carelessly throwing Sergio’s trousers on the floor and pressing himself against the younger man, fiercely kissing him. “You can’t say those things to me.”

Sergio tightened his legs around Iker, lightly pulling his hair. “I want you in me.” He was rewarded with a bite to his bottom lip, a groan coming from Iker that travelled straight to his cock. “Iker.”

“Patience, Sergio,” he teased, knowing full well that patience was not one of Sergio’s best attributes. “I think that after two fantastic nights we should take it easy, don’t you think? Enjoy it. Slowly.”

In response, Sergio squeezed Iker’s butt and pressed their crotches together, wanting Iker to feel the hardness that was pressing against his thigh. “You sure?”

Iker swallowed a groan. “Yes,” he whispered. “I know what you’re trying to do. Not going to work.”

Sergio laughed. “You’re just as impatient as I am. You can try to fool everyone else but it’s not going to work with me, Casillas.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Iker pressed their mouths together before Sergio got a chance to reply, gently grinding against Sergio, teasingly slow because he _was_ going to make this last, no matter how quick and hard Sergio wanted it done. He pulled back for a second and Sergio _whined_ at the loss of contact, trying to follow Iker’s lips to keep kissing him. Iker chucked as he unbuttoned his trousers. “Need to get these off.” Sergio’s hands quickly fumbled with the zipper, impatiently shoving the trousers and boxers down. And as soon as they were off, they were pressing against each other again, hissing as they _finally_ came into contact.

“Fuck, wait,” Sergio said suddenly. He moved from beneath a very confused Iker and walked towards his bag that had been discarded as soon as they arrived at their house. He grinned to himself when he found what he’d been searching for and walked back towards the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe and holding the small object between his thumb and finger.

Iker frowned until he realised what Sergio was holding. “You want me to—” And Sergio was nodding fiercely as he settled his knees between Iker’s leg. He held Iker’s left arm and gently pushed the captain’s armband until it was safely resting on his bicep. _Where it belongs_.

“Perfect,” Sergio whispered more to himself than to Iker, but the goalkeeper still caught the word, and he couldn’t help but look adoringly at Sergio and notice the _love_ that was radiating from the defender. Whenever he saw Sergio looking at him like that, Iker felt like the luckiest man alive. How he’d gotten so lucky with the man before him was beyond him. Maybe one day he’d understand.

Iker leaned back, pulling Sergio down with him, the two of them kissing softly, a contrast to their earlier movements. Sergio rolled them over so that he was on the bottom and Iker’s hand settled on Sergio’s thigh, squeezing it as the defender’s leg hooked around his waist.

“What do you want Sergio?” Iker whispered, nipping at Sergio’s earlobe.

“You.”

“Gonna need to be more specific, baby.” He rubbed circles on Sergio’s hip, softly kissing his neck, trying to get the younger man to writhe beneath him. It didn’t take much. Not when it was Iker touching him.

“I want your _cock_ inside _me_. _Tonight_ preferably.” He whined. “Are you having trouble getting it up, old man? That why you’re taking so long?”

Iker chuckled lowly, pressing himself against Sergio’s hip and watching as Sergio’s eyes closed at the contact. “Think that’s a problem for me? Bet you won’t be calling me old man when you’re feeling me inside you.”

“Guess I’ll have to imagine, won’t I?”

Iker leaned back, spreading Sergio’s legs. His hands massaged at Sergio’s inner thighs, appreciating how good the defender looked when he was spread open in front of him, all tanned skin and warm and inviting and _his_.

“Mine,” he breathed as his lips ghosted along Sergio’s thigh, leaving barely there kisses. His mouth hovered above Sergio’s cock, close enough that he could see it twitch when he lightly blew on it.

“Iker…” Sergio’s hand rested on his hair, urging him to _do_ something. “Please.”

“I love it when you beg.” He pressed a light kiss to the head, hearing a soft moan from above. His tongue darted out to swirl around it, noticing a small amount of precum already on it. Iker sucked it into his mouth, feeling the pleasant weight against his tongue, and the sweet taste of Sergio after so many weeks apart. His hand squeezed at the base, thumb circling Sergio’s balls. It took all of Sergio’s willpower not to shove himself down Iker’s throat and fuck his mouth. Instead, he grabbed the pillow and tried to keep his eyes open as he watched the goalkeeper bobbing up and down on his cock. He felt almost lightheaded when he felt a finger massaging his hole, his body automatically squeezing around Iker.

Iker removed his mouth from Sergio with an obscenely loud pop and kissed lower. He spread Sergio’s cheeks, groaning as he saw the hole twitch as his finger rubbed against it. Leaning forward he darted his tongue out, giving it a tentative lick and being rewarded with a soft _fuck_ from Sergio. He licked and kissed and moaned when his tongue entered the tight ring of muscle. His fingers were quick to join, scissoring Sergio open and feeling him clench around him. His hand gripped Sergio’s strong thigh as he watched the defender crumbling beneath his touch, completely lost to everything but the feeling of Iker on his skin. He cried out when Iker pulled back and his eyes flew open, worry written all over them.

“Wh—”

“I’d love to make you come like this. But,” he leaned over, opening the drawer of the bedside table and getting a bottle of lube, “I want to be inside you. After we’re done we can get back to this. You ready for me?”

“Fuck, yes. Been ready since yesterday.” His voice was weak from pleasure, his half lidded eyes following Iker’s movements.

“We don’t have any condoms,” Iker said, fumbling around the drawer. “Shit.”

Sergio leaned over and grasped Iker’s arm, pulling him closer and making the goalkeeper look at him. “We don’t need any. I want to feel you. _All of you_. Please?”

Iker’s eyes softened as he looked down at the defender. “How could I ever say no to you when you look at me like that?” He kissed him softly, hand cupping Sergio’s jaw.

“Good to know I have this much power over you.”

Iker chuckled. “Only in the bedroom. Maybe.” He leaned back, pouring lube on his fingers and making sure Sergio was loose enough for him. Sergio's hips moved with the movement of Iker’s hand and when his prostate was brushed his back arched as the sensation spread across his body.

“Ready. Fuck, Iker, I’m ready. Come on.”

Never one to be told twice, Iker gently removed his fingers and slicked his length. “How do you want me?”

“Like this. I want to look at you.”

Iker smiled at the affection he could feel in Sergio’s words. He leaned forward, pressing the head of his cock against Sergio, slowly pushing forward and feeling Sergio’s body stubbornly granting him access. Sergio’s eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to ignore the pain, trying to focus on Iker’s thumbs rubbing soothing circles on his hips as he slowly pushed forward, letting Sergio adjust to the fullness. Sergio felt a hand cupping his cheek and he opened his eyes to be met with Iker’s face looking adoringly at him, with so much love behind his eyes. They didn’t need words to know how they felt towards each other; it was so easy to show it with a simple look, and they sure had learned that after all the years where they had to rely on looks and simple touches and hugs and kisses on the cheek. But now things had changed and they could _finally_ express their love freely. Sergio smiled, his hand resting on the back of Iker’s neck and pulling him close to kiss him. Legs tightened around the goalkeeper’s waist as he was fully inside Sergio, both of them adjusting to the sensation, like they had so many times before.

“You can move now,” he whispered. “I’m good.”

And Iker did just that. Slowly, as if he was afraid of breaking Sergio if he moved any faster. But Sergio could tell Iker wanted nothing more than to speed his hips, and pound into him; so he encouraged him by pressing the heels of his feet against Iker’s ass, prompting him to go deeper. When they locked eyes, Iker’s cock twitched at the absolute filthy look Sergio gave him. He leaned forward, hungrily kissing him, like his life depended on it. His hips sped up as he tightly gripped Sergio’s thigh, an answering groan coming from the man below him.

“You wanted this, baby?” Iker grunted, feeling Sergio squeezing around him.

“Yeah,” he whispered, hands squeezing Iker’s shoulders as his legs wrapped around the goalkeeper’s waist because he wanted – needed – Iker as close as possible, and even that wasn’t enough. “Yeah, I wanted this. _Fuck_.” He closed his eyes, back arching slightly from the bed when he felt Iker brush against his prostate, the feeling sending jolts through his entire body. “Keep doing that. Deeper.”

Iker almost smiled but then he felt Sergio squeezing so _tightly_ around him. He always felt so good, so virgin tight that Iker wanted nothing more than to stay in this position forever because that’s where he belonged, that’s where he always wanted to be. Moving inside Sergio and looking down at the _gorgeous_ man beneath him who always rewarded him with the most beautiful expressions when Iker moved his hips just _right_. And Sergio just looked so good when he was completely fucked out by Iker. It had to be Iker’s favourite image in the world. Nothing else compared.

Sergio gripped Iker’s bicep, fingers ghosting below the armband. “I love this thing. Looks so fucking good on you.” His words were cut short by a loud moan resulting from Iker being so _deep_ inside him, fitting so perfectly. It was true, though. Sergio wouldn’t necessarily say that figures of authority got him hot and bothered, it was more… Iker. Iker when he wore the armband, when he gave them orders in his captain’s voice which made Sergio feeling obliged to do as commanded and slightly aroused. It almost got him in trouble during training and even a few matches through the years. It was hard not to get, well, _hard_ when Iker was barking orders at his defense. And Sergio was always so quick to get Iker pressed against a corner in the locker room, where no one could see them, and press himself against Iker so that his captain could feel just how much he affected him. It was so much better when Iker used his captain charisma in the bedroom, though; it left Sergio feeling absolutely wrecked.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” Iker bit down on Sergio’s shoulder, speeding up his hips, moving faster, harder. The sounds in the bedroom were of flesh meeting flesh and loud moans coming from both men. It was nothing short of filthy but, boy, did Iker like it. “You look so good like this, Sergio.”

Sergio looked at him through half lidded eyes, a lazy grin on his face. His legs left Iker’s waist and in a sudden movement he rolled them over so that he on top of Iker. He adjusted Iker’s cock inside him, sliding down slowly. “How about like this?” He leaned forward, hands resting on Iker’s chest as he rolled his hips, knowing that it always drove his boyfriend insane.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he managed to whisper through a moan. “Yeah. _Yeah_ , fuck, that’s perfect.” He started moving his hips, meeting Sergio’s thrusts, hands resting on Sergio’s thighs. He focused on Sergio’s frame, on the way he tilted his head back and his mouth hung slightly open, his eyes closed as if he wanted nothing more than to concentrate solely on the feeling of Iker inside him. Iker’s hand wrapped around Sergio’s cock, giving it a slow tug, and he noticed how red it was. Sergio had to be positively aching for release. “You gonna come for me, baby?”

Sergio nodded quickly. “Yes, fuck, I’m so close—”

“Don’t. Not yet.”

Sergio whined, letting his fingernails graze Iker’s chest. “Please...” Iker’s hand abandoned him, choosing instead to hold Sergio’s arms and drag him closer. He was shaking, his orgasm already building up, and Iker could tell he was doing his best to hold it down.

“You could come just like this, couldn’t you? Don’t even need to touch your pretty cock.” Iker’s eyes were dark with lust. He knew it was true, he could always tell by the way Sergio lost himself to the feeling of Iker inside him. When his prostate was continuously hit and massaged just the right way, Sergio didn’t need anything else. That was all the stimulation that took for him to come undone.

Sergio writhed above him, collapsing on top of Iker because his arms were too weak to support his weight at the moment. He buried his face against the crook of Iker’s neck, turning slightly so that he could kiss Iker’s neck and along his jaw. “ _Yes. I want to— I wanna—”_

“Do you _need_ to, Sergio? Should I let you?” And Iker was too far gone. He tried to steady his breathing so he could keep talking to Sergio but he himself couldn’t hold it much longer. Not when he had Sergio wrapped around him like this. Iker could feel Sergio nodding against him. “Yeah?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Sergio whined. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come…”

“Then come,” Iker urged him, speeding his hips and hitting Sergio’s spot over, and over, and over again. “Come for me.” His hand slid down Sergio’s back, fingers lightly touching him, until he settled on Sergio’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze. And that’s all it took until Sergio let out a loud moan, whispering _Iker, Iker, fuck, Iker_ like a prayer, and spilling hot and fast against their chests. He shivered against Iker on the aftershocks of his orgasm and it wasn’t long until Iker pumped once, twice, three times and let himself spill inside Sergio. His hips slowed down as he felt his dick softening inside Sergio, feeling his come dripping from inside Sergio.

He stilled and wrapped his arms around Sergio, rubbing soothing circles on his lower back as Sergio came down from his high. They stayed like that for a few moments, steadying their breaths and holding each other, legs tangled together.

Sergio smiled against Iker when he felt the older man gently kissing his shoulder. It didn’t matter what type of sex they had, whether it was rough, gentle, or if they – as Sergio liked to put – made love (yeah, call him a romantic, he was proud of being one), whenever they were done Iker was always so gentle with him. He treated Sergio with so much care, adoration, _affection_ that it made the defender feel light headed. Sergio didn’t know what he had done to get so lucky but he only hoped that he’d never fuck up because the thought of not having Iker by his side was enough to make his heart ache. A future without Iker Casillas was one he didn’t want. He’d sooner die than let that happen. Call him dramatic for all he cares.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he almost didn’t hear Iker saying, “Thank you.”

“Hm? For what?”

“Where do I even start?” Iker half joked. “For leading us towards another amazing victory, for not forgetting about me and wearing my shirt last night, for being brave like I could never be and kissing me in front of thousands of people. You’re a dream, Sergio Ramos. I’m so proud of you.”

Sergio had the feeling that that wasn’t even half of Iker wanted to thank him for but he didn’t press on. He propped himself on his elbow and gazed down on Iker, letting his thumb rest on the goalkeeper’s cheek. “If I have accomplished so much then it’s partly because of you. These victories are as much mine as they are yours. I’m just glad we can share this happiness together.” And, fuck, Sergio would do anything for Iker. If Iker had asked him the moon then Sergio would do everything in his hands to give him the moon. If Iker asked him to cross the Atlantic ocean to prove his love then he would. If he had to face an entire army on his own for Iker then he would. Anything. _Anything_ to make him happy.

In Sergio’s mind, nothing would ever be enough.

Iker brushed the hair from Sergio’s forehead, moving on his side and guiding Sergio to do the same. They looked at each for a moment, a comfortable silence between them. Iker’s fingers traced Sergio’s neck, the younger man’s eyes fluttering at the touch. “Sergio?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Sergio smiled, pressing himself closer to Iker. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” His lips ghosted along Sergio’s before pressing a soft, gentle kiss. “I love you.”

Sergio nodded, wrapping his hand on Iker’s nape and pulling him closer, deepening their kiss. “I love _you._ ” _Kiss._ He reached over the bedside table and grabbed a couple of wet wipes, cleaning up the mess between them. “You’re changing these sheets tomorrow.”

Iker laughed. “Seems only fair. But only if you make me breakfast.”

Sergio got comfortable and turned around, pressing his back against Iker’s chest. “Want me to bring you breakfast in bed? With a flower and a love note, perhaps? Maybe I could serenade you.”

Iker groaned. “I don’t want you to deafen me first thing in the morning.” He yelped when he felt Sergio’s hand hitting his.

“You’re the worst.”

“Perhaps. But you still love me. I make you just as bad as me, baby.” Sergio's chuckle turned into a smile when he felt a kiss being pressed to his neck and Iker’s arm tightening around his waist.

Sergio had won three major international competitions with his national team; he had won La Liga, and Copa del Rey; he had won _la décima_ and _la undécima_. But his biggest victory?

Being loved by Iker Casillas.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that was fun to read because it was quite nice to write! :) It wasn't meant to get so lovey dovey towards the end but I guess I'm a sucker for fluff... I can't help it with these two.


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